Hollywood would be surprised. The worst terrors that haunt the nightmares of parents don't carry chain saws, wear goalie masks or reach out for us from the crypt with bony, clutching fingers.
They wear surgical scrubs or police uniforms and speak in the formal cadence of professional sorrow that can break human hearts in two with a few words:
''There has been an accident . . . ''
''Your daughter has been seriously injured . . . ''
''I have some very bad news. It's about your son . . . ''
Most of us try not to think about it, but we can't help wondering sometimes deep in the night if we could handle something like that - how parents even survive losing a child.
How do you keep on keeping on, going through the motions of ringing phones, grocery shopping, work, chatting about the weather, when your soul is drowning in an endless thunderstorm of tears?
On Thursday, I witnessed that question being answered in court.
It wasn't a trial or a sentencing or a hearing to place blame. This time, the courtroom was used for something different: celebrating a change in Ohio law that declares for the first time that an unborn child is a person, entitled to legal protection from assault and homicide.
The courthouse crowd, garnished with judges and politicians, trickled in joking and waving like school kids waiting for an assembly. A few minutes later, they were very quiet. Throats and collars were suddenly too tight and people dabbed at tears as they heard two men share the aching grief of losing a child.
One was Joe Daly, whose wife, Suzanne, 27, was killed last August in a head-on crash on I-275. That might have been the end of the story - another fatal freeway accident, turn to page B-2. But Suzanne was 8ï-months pregnant with a son the Dalys had named Austin.
When a car driven by Krystal White, 16, flew across the median at more than 80 mph, two people were killed in the crash. But Miss White, who had no license and had been warned by a court referee that her driving was a hazard to herself and others, could only be convicted of one homicide.
''When Joe (Deters, Hamilton County prosecutor) told me no charges could be filed on the death of my son, I said that was unbelievable,'' Mr. Daly recalled. ''From that day, I set out on a journey to change the state law.''
I once saw a picture of Austin Daly, wearing one of those little baby outfits that newborn nfants come home in. It said, ''Take me home.'' He was buried that way, in the arms of his mother.
''My wife instilled in me that children come first,'' Mr. Daly said, struggling through tears. ''When I got 30,000 cards and letters of support, that's when I realized that it's not just me.''
No, Mr. Daly was not alone. He had help from his sister and others in his family, who cried and hugged during the ceremony. He had help from Mr. Deters, and from two state lawmakers who introduced the bill, Sen. Scott Nein, R-Middletown, and Rep. Robert Shuler, R-Sycamore Township - whose own son, born about the time Austin would have been born, was named Austin.
And they had help from Gov. George Voinovich. ''The governor said to us, get me a bill and I'll sign it,'' Sen. Nein said.
Mr. Voinovich was there Thursday, too. He checked his watch to record the time, took out a pen given to him by Mr. Daly, and signed the bill into law.
He also shared a glimpse of his own pain.
''We have felt grief too,'' he said, ''since we lost our youngest daughter at age 9, when a driver ran a red light.''
Mr. Voinovich described how he and his wife, Janet, have focused on helping children, and set up a scholarship named after Molly. ''I understand the grief you have,'' he told Mr. Daly. They embraced, and the governor got choked up along with everyone else.
Yes, this is the same governor who lost his temper on the runway when FAA officials garbled a Secret Service order and grounded his plane for 7ï hours during a visit to Columbus by President Clinton. Gov. Voinovich cursed and ordered his pilot to take off anyway, daring the FAA to ''shoot us down.''
He's human, you see.
As I sat there I wondered why we complain about plastic candidates and demand real people, then burn them at the media stake for being too real and cursing or crying the same way we do.
But I didn't think about it long, because what happened Thursday transcended politics and all the elected smiles and handshakes in the room.
It transcended even the abortion debate, by showing that everyone can agree that a viable unborn child is a person. And that simple truth ''will make a difference in the lives of thousands of people in the state of Ohio,'' the governor said.
''This is the best day of my life since the death of my wife,'' said Mr. Daly.
The governor said, ''Joe Daly showed that one person can make a difference.''
Make that three people: Joe, Suzanne and Austin.
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. If you have questions or comments, call 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
